


Wrestling Personal Demons

by Queenie_Mab



Series: PJO ficlets and oneshots [14]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Dorms, Locker Room, M/M, Masturbation, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Wrestling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-18
Updated: 2015-03-18
Packaged: 2018-03-18 09:45:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3565115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Queenie_Mab/pseuds/Queenie_Mab
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jason and Percy are teammates on the wrestling team at Olympus University and find it tough to own up to what's really going on when they compete against each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [boombashkas](https://archiveofourown.org/users/boombashkas/gifts), [crazygirl36623](https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazygirl36623/gifts).



> This fic has two parts and fills two prompts for the [ask-meme](http://mab-speaks.tumblr.com/post/113494424154) I'm doing on tumblr. 
> 
> Chapter one: Based on prompt # 11 "Don't you dare throw that snowba– goddamnit!" Requested by [crazygirl36623](http://crazygirl36623.tumblr.com/).
> 
>  

~*~

  


I grapple with Grace on the mat, my mouthguard slipping, my mouth going juicy. I have his right shoulder pinned, straddling his left hip as he twists, my jockstrap stretching tight as he gets his knees up and spreads my legs wider than I'm used to, bracing himself and I know I'm in trouble. The pressure on my cock forces a groan out of me. I hope my face, already burning from exertion, hides the flush spreading down my neck to my chest. He twists again, snakelike, slipping out from under my hold, my palm striking the mat hard, and then the world tilts as I'm thrown onto my back. He holds me in place with his pelvis, his feet pinning my legs, his hands grinding my biceps. I'm so worked up I'm close to coming.

 **Thweeeeeeet!** sounds the whistle and Hedge calls the match. 

Grace grins down at me, a strand of saliva slipping from his mouth and hitting my cheek. He holds me in place a few seconds longer than necessary, and it could be my damn perverted brain, but I swear he grinds our groins deliberately before letting up.

"All right, cupcakes! On your feet and hit the showers!"

Grace gets to his feet as I rise on my elbows, my heart hammering, shame setting in. I'm off my game. He holds out a hand, surprising me and I grab it, pulling myself up. I shake my head and focus on keeping my feet level, covering my vertigo. 

"Grace!" Hedge snaps. "You're good to go! Jackson, stay a sec." 

Grace looks at me, his forehead creased. He raises an eyebrow. 

I spit out my mouthguard and shoo him away. We're bros, but that doesn't mean I want him to see me get dressed down by the coach.

~*~

  


I push the front door of Olympus University, my head pounding and my breath catches in my lungs as the freezing January air hits me. I hug myself, my bag slung over my shoulder and curse my memory for leaving my jacket in the locker room. My breath rises like smoke in the cold night as I stomp across the snow-laden grounds, crunching through trails of footprints crisscrossing my path. My teeth chatter. 

"Hey, Jackson!"

I turn, spotting Grace as he steps out from behind the statue of Zeus several yards from me at the center point of campus. I remember sharing a laugh with him when he said he thought the school was tempting fate, naming itself Olympus. _Same as the guy who built the Titanic_.

"Too cold!" I call back and then I catch sight of his hand. "Don't you throw that snowba– goddamnit!" It strikes my shoulder and breaks apart, bits of it sliding down my shirt. 

Grace doubles over with laughter. Normally, this would be war, and I'd arm myself and show him up, but after 15 minutes of coach shouting in my ear and then forgetting my jacket after losing to him on the mat, I'm just done. 

I turn and lengthen my strides, reaching the dorms before Grace realizes he fucked up. 

I yank the dorm building door open and race up the back stairs instead of taking the elevator, warming up as I work my legs, and my beef with Grace has my nerves thrumming with frustration. 

I make it back to my room, drop my bag and lock the bathroom door on my side. Grace is in the next room over and we share the toilet between us. That finished, I strip to my briefs and crawl into bed, pulling my laptop up and fixing my headphones in place. He can't get in now, and I can't hear him, so I figure I'm finally safe. 

I pull my laptop close, hating myself as I visit his Instagram and start scrolling. There it is, the picture of us I can't get out of my head. Jason's muscular ass, flexing through his purple singlet, hugging me in the tightest bear hug possible. I slip my hand inside my briefs and start stroking. I'm smiling in the photo, my face smooshed beside his neck, and I recall how it felt to be so close, the manly smells, the taste of his sweat on my lips. 

I spread my knees a little wider, thrusting through the ring I make with my fist, my breath catching, pressure building, picturing his ass without the singlet, framed by his jockstrap, bent over to fetch a towel from the floor. I come with a cry, soaking my underwear with my spunk, and working my cock as I ride the aftershocks, pretending it's his hand and not my own. 

One of these days he's gonna notice something's off with me. One of these days, he'll refuse to partner me on the mat. One of these days … Well. At least it's not today.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2: Based on prompt #22 "I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice." from an [ask-meme](http://mab-speaks.tumblr.com/post/113494424154) on Tumblr. Requested by [boombashkas](http://boombashkas.tumblr.com/).

~*~

  


**Crash! Crash! Boom!**

"Jackson!" 

_Oh great. Just what I fucking need,_ I think to myself as the pile of folding chairs spills across the floor of the gym. 

"Man," I whine. "Why does this shit keep happening to me?"

"Pick them up," Hedge grumbles through his megaphone. I mean, seriously. Why does he always use that damn thing? 

All I did was walk into the room, and, okay, maybe I caught sight of Grace doing about a hundred pushups and I took a step back to admire the view, but why do they have to stack the chairs in here anyway?

I sling my bag off my shoulders, my mouth going dry and toss it to the side, away from anything else that could possibly get knocked over, and start picking up chairs. 

"That's a wrap!" Hedge calls and I look up as Jason flops to the floor, then rolls on his back, his chest heaving. "I'm gonna go and grab a bite at the food carts and when I get back I want this gym in ship shape." 

Grace sits up and grins at me, wiping the sweat from his forehead with his arm. "I'll stay and help, Coach," he says, and I realize I've stopped working and have been staring at him for gods knows how long. I turn around and get back to work, forcing myself to focus and get a fucking grip. The sound the chairs make as I stack them back against the wall reminds me of the sound the ocean makes when the wind howls and the waves are choppy. 

I'm about a quarter of the way through the pile when I catch Grace's shoes coming toward me from the corner of my eye. 

I take a deep breath and release it, collecting myself, and then looking up at him. "Hey, man. Thanks for staying after and offering to help. I think I can manage it though if you want to jet."

His brows furrow as he looks at me, lips turned down, like he's trying to work something out in his head. I'm so screwed. I just pretend I don't notice, that nothing's weird and keep stacking chairs.

"I think I'm starting to figure you out," he says and I shrug, affecting indifference. 

"Yeah?" I ask, my heart thundering in my ears as I keep stacking chairs. I can't risk looking at him. I need to finish cleaning up and get the hell away. I can't even remember why I came in here in the first place. He touches my shoulder and I spin around, shooting daggers at his stupid blue eyes. "What?" I snap. 

"Percy." His voice is soft, unsettling. "Can you stop for a minute. Just talk to me. We're bros and I fucked up hitting you with that snowball last night. I'm sorry."

I blink. It takes me a minute to remember the snowball. "Oh." I relax. If he's just apologizing for that, then that's fine. I shake myself, rolling my shoulders to loosen them. "We're cool, man. Don't even worry about that."

He frowns, then jerks his head toward the locker room. "Come with?"

I shrug and follow him. Hedge takes two hour lunches. I can spare a few minutes. 

He flips on the light in the locker room and I step in behind him, stopping short when he turns around and has me backed against the wall, not physically, but with his eyes, his stature. 

"Look, I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice, and …"

My ears stop working as I gape at him, staring, but not even seeing, like my brain just got flushed down my spine to my stomach. Sparks flash in my vision until it tunnels. 

And then I'm sitting on the bench, his arm around my waist, blinking sight back to my eyes. Everything sounds really loud now, like the volume is turned way up on a stereo system. 

"Wh– what was that?" I ask. 

I sit up straight, getting my head back and look at him, confused. 

He doesn't move his arm from my waist, just rakes his bangs back. "I suck at this," he says, still not making any sense. "I didn't think you were gonna …"

"What are you talking about? What are you trying to say?" I'm not used to seeing him so unsettled. 

"Every time I try to do it with words, I mess it up," he says, and I'm about ready to snap back some smartass comment when his lips meet mine. 

I freeze, not kissing back and he stops too, not pushing, but not moving away. There's no way I can misread what he's trying to say. _He likes me too._ We sit like that, paused like a video screen as my mind catches up with my body, and then I smile against his lips. 

He breathes out through his nose, still not moving away, an unmistakable sigh of relief. He licks my teeth with the tip of his tongue and I relax again, meeting him and falling into the pace he sets. 

I don't even know how much later it is when I lift my head from his chest, my hair wet with sweat, our bodies slick with it. I meet his eyes, feeling drunk, spent and he grins at me, then smacks my ass. 

"Only took me two years to speak up. We've got lost time to make up for." 

I roll my eyes, my response on my tongue when the gym door slams, followed by the sound of a megaphone switching on. 

"Jackson!"

"Ugh. Can I just quit the team?" I ask as we scramble to our feet and back into our clothes.

"No way, bitch. If you quit, I'll quit and he'll follow us all over the school with that goddamn megaphone until we agree to come back."

We just manage to pick up the mat and rest it against the wall when Hedge barges in and ....

**Thweeeeeeet!**


End file.
